Get Well
by Inuyashagirl2015
Summary: I want it to be over. I want all of this to go away, and I want to feel okay again for the first time since... I can't even remember. I want to get better. I want to be happy again... I just... I just want to Get Well. A series in the MTFMTO arc. PewdieCryMarziOC. Femslash, slash, foursome... Depression, and self harm... Not nearly as light hearted at the rest of the series.
1. Chapter 1

So, more than likely, this is gonna be its own little series within the MTFMTO series. Yes, this is based _very_ strongly on recent events in my own life. While the circumstances may be severely different, I was recently diagnosed as a manic depressive bipolar, and this Dragon will have the same diagnosis. Her reaction is, to be perfectly honest, almost identical to mine, to the point that quite a bit of what she thinks or says is something I myself have actually thought, said, or written in my journal. Because of the nature of it, it's going to be an ongoing series, not simply a one or two off with a set ending, because these sort of struggles don't end once you are discharged from the hospital, contrary to popular belief. The title is based off of the Icon for Hire song, Get Well.

 _ **Pairing:**_ Pewds/Cry/CutiePie/OFC (Dragon, as I've already said) AKA PewdieCryMarziOC

 _ **Warnings:**_ Femslash, Slash, a four way relationship, etc. Language, sexual references, as per usual. Also, depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts. I suppose this could potentially require a "trigger" warning for some people.

 _ **Rating:**_ High T for now, but I may have to up the rating later based on language, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, etc.

 **GetWell**

Things were absolutely perfect. At first. Now, that probably sounds like the beginning of an abusive relationship story, which I assure you is the farthest thing from the truth. Felix, Marzia, and Ryan were, and still are, the best things that have ever happened to me. I have no idea where I would be without any one of them. And no matter how some people may have a problem with our _unique_ relationship, whether is be the homosexuality aspect or the fact that it is polyamorous, it is in _no way_ the cause of anything so get that out of your head right now.

So, at first, everything was absolutely perfect. You know how all new relationships are at first, with the initial honeymoon phase where you're newly in love and everything the other person does is absolutely perfect, and they may as well have hung the moon. Our's was exactly like that, except I dare say that our honeymoon phase actually lasted longer than a couple's would have, because we all had two new partners to get to know in a romantic sense, in addition to the one that we were already in the "comfortable-together" phase of love with. I was already ready to commit anything to Ryan that he asked of me, and I was already in love with Marzia. Then, I got to know her in a more romantic sense, and fell even more deeply in love with her, all the while only falling harder for Ryan. At the same time, I finally met Felix as more than just a distant figure and/or the boy who's girlfriend I was in love with, and I fell in love with him. I know that it was a similiar process for each of the others, and with all of us so drunk of love and eachother that we were all over the moon, how could anything ever go wrong?

Yet, as always happens, it eventually did.

It started so slowly that even if I could have stopped it, I barely realised it was happening. I couldn't even tell you when it started. I can tell you the first time I can recall a solid hint of it, but I'm sure it began well before that.

It was a little over a year and a half after Ryan and I had moved to Europe permanently. That morning was not any different than the one before it, and the one after it would, for all intents and purposes, be basically the same. Ryan was napping simply for the hell of it and I had just put the finishing touches on the latest addition to a series, an episode of The Sims simply because why not, and said video was in the slow process of uploading. Not about to disturb Ryan's beauty sleep, I went downstairs to see what Felix and Marzia were up to. As it happened, they were sitting in the living room making a video together for Marzia's channel. It didn't take more than a second to find out that it was one of those "Boyfriend" challenges, specifically it was an "I Do My Boyfriend's Makeup" challenge. It was completely innocent and they were just laughing and having fun as Marzia expertly did Felix's makeup, yet something inside of me latched onto that moment. As I watched them from the doorway for a moment, out of camera view and just barely in their peripheral vision if they cared to notice, I just years prior, watching the inverse. I remembered staring at the screen, watching my best friend's boyfriend put makeup on her and hating him for being able to even be on the same continent as her, let alone be able to call her his girlfriend.

And then, all of a sudden, every little action was suddenly meaningful in the worst way. Every laugh, every joke, every smile that had love underneath it that they exchanged was just another reminder that... They loved eachother first. Yes, all four of us love eachother... but if we had to split up... Felix and Marzia would almost certainly chose eachother over me if given a choice. And why shouldn't they? Yes, they might love me... But to some extent, I would always be secondary to each of them.

So, before they could notice me, or if they already had, then acknowledge me, I turned around and quietly closed the door. Suddenly, I was in the mood for two things only- to be held, and to rest. Fortunately, I could easily accomplish both at once.

Ryan roused slightly from his sleep as I slid onto our large bed. He turned over, eyes half-lidded from sleep and as I slid closer, he threw an arm over me and dragged me into him so that my head was buried into his chest.

"Double naptime?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Double naptime." I confirmed as I relaxed into his warmth.

"Awesome." He replied, pulling me even closer before seeming to fall back into sleep. Finally, the small knot of anxiety that had formed in my throat loosened a little and I smiled as I slowly descended into a nap. Yeah, Felix and Marzia would probably put eachother first if they had to choose... but I had Ryan. And, logically, why would they ever need to chose anyway? That was fine. This was all fine and wonderful and more than enough for me.

I have Ryan.

And that worked. I used those three words the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that as, time after time, I saw things that kept reminding me that Felix and Marzia were together first. But it was okay and it was all going to be okay and I would be fine and realistically nothing would happen, but even if it did, it would be okay, because just like Felix and Marzia, Ryan and I were together first, so it would be okay, right?

Except... a few days later, I wasn't so sure anymore.

 **End**

Well, there's the first chapter. Realistically, I may actually write the entire "series" before I actually have internet to upload any of it, so that could be a thing. Whatever. Really need to work on getting on some sort of steady update schedule or something. We'll see.


	2. Chapter 2

_It. Will. Be. Fine. Yeah, they love eachother more than they love you, maybe more than they'll ever love you. But that's okay, they've got a lot of love to go around. It'll be fine. They won't leave you. Sure, they would choose eachother, but they're never going to have to choose, so it won't be an issue. And even if it is, Ryan and I were together first, so he'll choose me, probably. I won't be alone, they won't leave me alone, even if two if them do, he won't. It will all be just fine. You'll be okay._

I believe I can identify the next "highlight," shall we say, of my downward spiral. It was, perhaps, two weeks or so after the filming of that video. More importantly, it was about two weeks after the thoughts, after the worry of them leaving, of not loving me, of... being alone, had started. In response, my own behaviour towards them had gradually started to change. I was normally a pretty physical person, I loved physical contact of any kind, but every time the thoughts started to invade my head, if I couldn't reason them away, then to whoever wasn't busy, whether is be Marzia, Felix, or Ryan, I became literally physically clingy. As in, I would basically attach myself to them and not let go, whether it be simply innocent touching, cuddling, or perhaps something a little more heated. Perhaps they all noticed, I'm not sure. Ryan, having been with me the longest, mentioned that I was more "affectionate" than usual, to which I replied something about it probably having to do with it almost being that time of the month. Mind you, I wasn't lying intentionally, it truly was the only thing I could think of that was causing me to act that way.

But other than those thoughts, which I kept as far in the back of my mind as I could, and my complete lack of a personal space bubble, nothing was truly going badly. I had no way of knowing of of the signs for what they were. Once again, the day wasn't all that unique by itself. It started out like the day before and the day that came after. I was fine and everything was fine.

Breakfast went as expected. Then, afterwards, Marzia was going to go out for groceries. The three of us didn't feel like going because we're lazy and Marzia, strangely, actually enjoys grocery shopping. We still think she's weird for it, but we still love her. Alas, she was preparing to go when Felix got the idea that, hey, we should all go to the arcade! Cuz, why not, right?

Except, as I said, Marzia was getting ready to go get groceries, except she likes to go to this one specific organic store that's about half of an hour's drive away, and she likes to browse and find new and weird things, which is awesome when we get to eat the stuff, but not so great when we're in a store for like seven hours, so there's that. As she was not particularly interested in arcades in the first place, she simply opted to just go shopping alone instead.

So, she left as Felix, Ryan, and I prepared to go to the arcade together, which would have been totally fine. Except, they only threw on jeans and a t-shirt, and I was taking a bit longer to get ready because, as a female with long hair, boobs and other things that require extra preparation to go out in public it occured to me that the only reason I was taking longer was because of said female status... And that was when it occured to me how rarely they actually took the opportunity for full of "guy time" whereas "girl-dates" between me and Marzia are a pretty frequent occasion for us.

"You know what guys..." I trudged out of the bathroom, pulling my hair back out of the ponytail I had been putting it in, "Now that I'm standing up and walking around, I don't feel so great. I think I might just stay home and sleep a while."

"You sure?" Ryan asked, stepping forward to press his hand against my forhead, "You don't feel warm or anything."

"Nah, It's just a headache, a nap will probably fix it, but it's making me kinda nauseous. You guys just go ahead. Have fun on your little guys' date, mkay?" I grinned up at him.

"Well... Okay... Feel better, okay? I love you." He kissed my forhead and then my lips and I giggled, loving the affection as Marzia and I tended to have to initiate the verbal displays of affection and normally they didn't happen as much with the other male in the room unless we were all in that weird cuddly-sweet mood together.

"Love you too." I smiled up at him and turned Felix and put my hands on his shoulders, "And I love you as well."

"Aww come on, don't get your feels on me," He recoiled dramatically, and for that instant, even though he was joking, that same part of me that had been whispering that he and Marzia would leave me latched onto that moment, claiming it as proof of his disdain. No matter how much I knew he was kidding, it hurt, but I ignored it as he smiled suddenly and leaned down to kiss me, "I love you too."

"You ready to go Felix?"

"What, don't I get an _I love you_ too?" Felix teased, "We're about to go on a "guys' date," after all."

"I love you too, you dumbass, now come on then, since you're apparently ready."

"Oh, pushy, huh? I like that in a man."

"Awesome, have fun boys." My smile didn't falter as I watched them leave. I clung to their "I love you's" like a lifeline as I turned around and sat down on the bed, laying down but not quite able to summon the energy to actually get underneath the covers. They meant it. My head, at least, knew that, to some extent. Yeah, maybe he loves Marzia more, but that doesn't mean Felix doesn't love me. And Ryan was mine first and vice versa. It would be fine. Their I love you's meant that it would okay and that I would be okay. I wouldn't be alone. "I love you" also means "I won't let you be alone," right? They both told me that they love me, and then-

... They left. They left... _together_. On a guys' date. They left.

Ryan... left me...

He wasn't mine first.

He... he had loved Felix long before he even met me.

I don't know how I had only just had that revelation. I had spent all this time comforting myself with the idea that Ryan had loved me first because it was a parallel to how Felix loved Marzia first and Vice Versa, except that wasn't true because _he had loved Felix before I ever came into the picture and so of course he would choose Felix if it ever came down to it, I was first for no one, I was the most replacable, the most unnecessary in the entire relationship-_

I didn't know when, but suddenly I was staring at the wall instead of the ceiling and my knees we up against my chest, my breath thin and rasping as I tried to breath through the pit of anxiety lodged right at the bottom of my throat so that I could barely let air filter into my lungs around it.

They wouldn't have to choose. There would never be a situation in which they would have to decide to split us up, it would be fine, they wouldn't leave me alone, they said that they loved me, I would be fine, I had to be, it all has to be fine, but what if it's not? What if they decide that they're tired of me, or that four people is too many? What if they stop wanting me? What if they want me to go? If even one of them wanted me gone, they would all chose eachother over me in a heartbeat, I wouldn't even fight, I couldn't bare to make it hard for them, I would just go, I would just go and live somewhere all alone and no one would care and I would be _all alone_ and how do I handle that I can't handle that I would go crazy if I was lucky maybe I would have the sense to just kill myself before I ruin everything good left of me for anyone who still cared and...

 _Stop_. Stop... freaking out over nothing. They won't have to choose, none of this is ever going to come to pass, you're being stupid as per usual now shut up and stop doing this to yourself, you're the only one even mildly considering any of this. They're not going to leave you. You're not going to be alone.

... But the loneliest person in the world is always in the middle of a crowd...

"Anyone home?" I jumped as I heard someone call my name from downstairs, even as I recognized the voice as Marzia's.

"Ye-" I cleared my throat and tried again, "Yeah, I'm here."

"Just a second." She called back, and I heard the sound of the fridge opening and closing as I assume she put the perishable stuff away and then the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Hey." The bed shifted as she sat down behind me, "Are you coming to lunch or do you not feel better?"

"Lunch?"

"Ryan called and said they were going to lunch and asked if I wanted to come after I got groceries. I had assumed you were going too."

"Oh." I was glad she had left the lights out when she came in, since I didn't have to hide my expression for the most part, "No, I hadn't heard."

"Well, do you want to come then?" She stroked my hair gently and I focused on that attention.

"No, I, uh, I wasn't feeling so great earlier and I'm still not." I wouldn't ask. It was stupid. Don't you dare ask. I can't ask.

"Oh no, do you want me to stay with you?" Why, oh why would you leave that up to me. I wanted so, so badly, but...

"No..." I finally forced out, voice quiet and monotone, which she would probably assume to be from the sleepiness or sickness, "I'll be fine for a while."

"Okay, feel better soon then." She leaned down and kissed my forhead, lingering there for just a moment, before pulling back and getting up, and immediately, I wanted her back, I wanted her to stay and I wanted her to tell me she loves me and she won't leave me, but that's stupid, you can't ask for someone to do that because they will, whether they mean it or not, and it's selfish so shut up and just wait until she leaves.

I clenched my eyes shut until she shut the door behind her and then, when I opened my eyes, the first tear of many spilled out. I clenched my teeth and didn't breath until I heard the front door shut behind her, and then I let the first sob break free. It was the first time I had cried for our foursome since it had officially gotten together.

I know it's stupid to be upset about it. I know that if I had asked, she would have stayed. I know it's stupid to be upset that she can't friggin read minds, that she doesn't know how much I wanted her to stay and hold me. It's stupid and selfish to ask about it just like it would have been stupid and selfish to ask her to stay just because of my childish wants. I know it's stupid to be upset that Ryan and Felix didn't call me and ask if I wanted to go to lunch too. I know that realistically, they probably thought I was asleep and wouldn't want to be woken. It's stupid to be upset and I don't know why I'm crying because it's ridiculous and I can't even make myself stop and I'm worthless at this too. All I am is a worthless, greedy attention whore, getting upset just because none of them love me more than the others even though this is supposed to be an equal relationship and I'm lucky any of them love me enough to keep me around. Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with me? This is stupid, stop FUCKING CRYING there's _nothing to be upset about_. You'll be perfectly fucking fine, okay?

As I said, it was the first time I had cried for our relationship... but no matter how much I didn't feel like I had any right to cry, it certainly wasn't the last time.

 **End**

This style is just kind of weird cuz I'm trying to get what's happening in the world around her while getting her thoughts, but it's especially hard because, for me at least, there are a million thoughts buzzing around all the time and it jumps from okay to hurtful so quickly that when writing it down I have to slow it down and it _still_ seems unrealistically quick, but really... It's not, really. I'm doing my best guys, hopefully the next one will be a little better.


	3. Chapter 3

Potential trigger warning. I say that, because I'm having trouble writing it because I'm shaking so bad. This brings up a lot of bad memories for me, it could do so for you as well if you struggle with self-harm, self-loathing, or depression. Or, it could always be because it's easier to detach or distance yourself when reading, but when you write something, you have to mentally put yourself in the situation wholly and completely. So, it could also have absolutely no affect on anyone but me. Meh.

 **TriggerWarning**

Things only got worse from there. Quickly, for that matter. The first time I cried a little more tan a year and a half after Ryan and I had permanently moved in with Felix and Marzia. The next major "bad point" came about a month afterwards. I tried to ignore it. I tried not to let it bother me. I tried to "just be happy." And when I couldn't, I faked it. It was exhausting, and I was sleeping later and napping more than usual, but it would be fine. I would get used to it eventually. I would get over it, eventually. Two months of constant, worsening exhaustion, sadness, irritability, moodiness... It leaves you a little unpredictable. Unstable. At least, that's what I blamed at the time, at least inside, though on the outside, I could only apologize for it, because I could never let Ryan, Felix, and Marzia know how selfish and horrible I was.

So, as per usual, in many ways the day started out like the day before, and like the next day would have. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner scattered among filming, editing, uploading, chores, familiar flirting, misc. entertainment, you know, the usual. It wasn't until nearly ten at night that it went from Tired-Okay-Stress-Fine-KeepGoing to Bad-Horrible-Worthless-Wretched-JustDie.

We were on the couch, and by we, I am referring to Felix and I. Something was playing, either Family Guy or American Dad, I can't remember which, I wasn't paying attention. Felix was leaning against the arm of the sofa and I was curled into him, practically in his lap. He had his arm around me as he watched the cartoon, purposely laughing gently enough not to disturb me, either physically or auditorily. It was fine. I was fine. It could have been worse, and it would have been worse if I had been sitting on the couch alone. He was warm. He loved me. I kept reminding myself of that, that he loved me, that Ryan and Marzia loved me even if they loved him more, and that even if he loved either of them more, it was fine, I would be fine. I was okay, there's nothing wrong with loving someone more than they love you.

And it was all okay, and I would be okay as long as nothing went wrong, except something did, so I wasn't.

So, as I was sitting there, staring at a screen without seeing anything, counting down the minutes until I could go to bed, he grabbed a glass of what that he had set on the end table to take a sip. Except I was mostly in his lap and I guess there was more condensation on the glass than he expected or maybe something really funny happened on screen, I don't know, but first something hit the top of my head and that kinda hurt and then I was suddenly freezing and soaking wet as I leapt up from the sofa.

And, because of my poor mood, I didn't take it well. To say I flipped my shit would be an understatement.

"You STUPID MOTHER FUCKER!" He hadn't even stood up as I started yelling.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't fucking mean to, huh? Oh yeah, cuz that makes it SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER-"

"What the hell's going on?!" Ryan yanked the door open immediately to find out why the hell I was screaming and as he did so, I noticed Marzia coming down the stairs quickly for the same purpose, but in my unrighteous fury, I completely ignored both of them.

"I mean, what the absolute FUCK, you STUPID piece of SHIT-" I continued to scream up at the Swede until the shock left his face was replaced by anger, albeit much more justifiable than mine.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell is your problem!?" He didn't yell back, but his voice certainly got louder.

"What's my problem? Oh, I don't know, how about the dumbass who just decided to drop his fucking water on my fucking head, that's what!"

"Wait, are you telling me this is just about a friggin cup of water?" Ryan asked incredulously.

"That's what I'm saying!" Felix threw his hands in the air.

"Oh, it's _just a friggin cup of water,_ is it? Fuck you too then." I hissed, bristling against Ryan at the first sign of him turning against me.

"Fucking, calm the hell down!" He told me, neither backing down nor stepping up to my challenge.

"Yeah," Felix glared at me, "And when you want to grow the fuck up and apologize, come talk to me. Until then, I will be elsewhere where I don't get yelled at by selfish, immature little bitches for absolutely no damn reason." And that was when I knew I had really fucked up, because you can insult Felix or yell at him all you want, but you know you either really pissed him off or really hurt him if he responds in kind. Which, of course, made me even more miserable, which made me hate myself more, which made me even angrier, especially as he turned around and walked away as if I didn't matter at all.

"Felix!" Marzia didn't even spare me a glance as she went after the Swede, which hurt more than the harshest glare could have. I stared after them for a second, then slowly turned to Ryan to see what the final verdict would be.

His mouth was pursed in a thin line, and he seemed torn between going after the Swede and staying to deal with me, whatever that would entail, whether it be hugging me or yelling at me or finding out why I had flipped out or all three or something else completely. I wanted so desperately to stay... even if it was to yell at me... That would mean he hadn't given up on me, right? But I knew what I deserved. I didn't deserve anything better than to be kicked out of the house, even if I knew they wouldn't do that, at least not tonight, but I certainly didn't deserve any of the attention I so pathetically craved, good or bad, after what I had just done. So, all it took was one more nail to seal my coffin.

"Can I fucking help you?" I hissed, glaring harshly at the brunette and while part of me wailed and begged him to stay, to notice my regret, to notice that I _needed_ him to stay... But, luckily, anger makes people more than a little blind.

"Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?" He growled, turning to follow the Swede, thankfully not sparing a glance backwards. If he had, he would have seen me crumple down to my knees in agony.

 _What the hell is wrong with you?_

I'm worthless. Wretched. Despicable. Pathetic useless unlovable cruel worth nothing better off dead stupid selfish spiteful wretched wretched wretched wretched.

"Gone... Gone..." I whimpered as my head fell onto the seat of the couch, which was wet from where the water had been spilt but I couldn't even pick my head up even if I want to I deserve it worthless worthless worthless. All alone. You deserve it.

"Alone..." I heard someone softly crying and shut up as soon as I realised it was me. They might hear they might come they might see how pathetic I am they might leave me.

They'll leave me anyway.

"Wretched. Wretched wretched wretched," I whispered softly as I forced myself to stand, feeling absolutely exhausted. I could hear voices from the kitchen. I didn't want to be here if they came back. Didn't want to face them. At the top of the stairs, I came to a revelation.

We all sleep in the same bed. But they won't... Won't want to... Won't want me...

I stared blankly at the mostly open door. The large bed that we all shared looked so, so tempting. But...

But it's not mine.

So, I turned, kept walking, until I reached the next door. The bed... Was made neatly. Untouched. It hadn't been slept in since Ryan and I had switched from it to the large bed in the master bedroom. It would have stayed empty if I wasn't so wretched. I deserve it.

Though it was smaller that the bed that we had all shared, when I was the only one curled up all alone staring into the darkness it felt huge. I was still cold, to the point of shivering, when I heard three set of footsteps coming up the stairs. The knot of anxiety, of panic and regret and _sorrysorrysorry_ spread with each step, and it was not small to begin with. Then, I heard the door to the master bedroom open and, after a pause, close. Then, one pair of feet made their way towards the room I was in. The door opened with a soft creak, and a ray of light shone in. I didn't move or acknowledge it, I simply layed there, curled up, shivering but facing the other way and after a moment, the door simply closed again and the person went back to the master bedroom. The door opened, closed. Soon the house was still. I laid there in the dark for what could have been minutes or hours, listening for the sound of life or love and hearing absolutely none from the rest of the house, wondering if I was the only person here, if they hadn't simply snuck down the stairs and left me all alone, because I would deserve it.

Regret, anxiety, panic, loneliness. Above all, despair. Regret moans, anxiety festers, panic sears, loneliness suffocates. But you know what despair does? Despair... _screams_. Despair shrieks its hopelessness and all you can do is just try to hold the wailing within you. You can't dare to release it, no one else would understand that it's not you that's screaming, and you just have to sit there with it bubbling on your tongue until, drop by drop, you eventually swallow it, as if it were poison, and then it will never go away, it will always be there, festering in the hollow cavity of your chest until the acid dissolves your heart and then-

Shut up. Shut up shut up SHUT UP

Stop making this worse, stop making yourself panic, you put yourself in this position, you're making it worse for yourself. Stop it.

Unable to handle the silent shrieks of despair as the echoed inside my own head, I sat up in bed. I turned on the light. It didn't help. I tried making small noise, tried listening to music, tried to read, tried tried tried nothing worked. I tried but I just couldn't make it go away. So I went downstairs. I couldn't make myself sit down, I was restless but so, so tired. I was especially tired of being tired. And as I wandered around, I happened to trail into the kitchen and it was just _lying_ there as if it was waiting for me and nothing like that had ever seriously occured to me until then but all of a sudden there it was, just lying, glinting in the glow from the window and from the clock on the stove that said it was almost one in the morning somehow and just as quietly I went back up the stairs and into the spare bedroom, shut the door, then went into the bathroom and shut that door too for good measure.

And then there I was, holding a sharpened kitchen knife to my wrist, just barely touching it, wondering if they would be too disgusted with me to even look at me when they found out. And they would because wrists are obvious. They're stereotypical and harder to hide than necessary. No, the wrist wasn't right. Not the wrist, somewhere else. The entire forearm was the same, it would be so suspicious if I started wearing long sleeves everywhere and that's completely ignoring the fact that I have three lovers and no the forearm wouldn't work either. Then I took my pants off because I _have_ to but I have to find a good place but I didn't know where and then, as I grabbed my shirt to pull it off, it occured to me. So, I pulled the still damp shirt off. My shoulders and a few inches under my clavicle were still icy compared to the rest of my skin from prolonged contact with the wet shirt.

And even though I knew where I was going to do it, after I took my bra off to spare it the stain, I just stood there, staring at myself in the mirror, in just my underwear, knife poised just under my collarbone, just a few inches too low for what I deserved, because I'm far too cowardly to just end it like I should, wondering if I'll even do this, knowing I will and knowing I won't and the first one was the hardest but it was an accident, I hadn't noticed how hard I was pressing or how bad I was shaking until I noticed the red trickling down, and the burn accompanying it.

And every one after that got even easier until I had seven cuts going down from under the right side of my collar bone. Then, I did seven more on the left side, because even as I'm ruining myself I would like it to be symmetric. And then I just stared down for a while, watching as two fat drops of blood trickled down, one from each row, before stopping a few inches down and congealing. And I just thought that... it wasn't enough. They weren't enough and there's only so much space on me, so I need to make them last longer, I needed to make them worse, I need people to see how much I regret it and how much I hate me and want to die and want to be saved, so I turned to knife so that it was almost parallel to the skin and pushed it down and scraped all the way down both of the rows of cuts and _that_ made the cuts split apart and bleed. Then, diagonal to those, at the juncture that's somewhat shoulder, somewhat chest, I put a row of four on either side, scraped them once, then again and then scraped the first rows again. It was then that I noticed that even as it reopened and deepened the cuts, the blood that had already been dripping from the cut got scraped off and splattered on the counter and the floor, so I kicked my clothes out of the way and watched as the blood droplets claims the white surfaces, daydreaming about passing out in here and having Marzia, Ryan, or even Felix finding me in the morning and just holding me and crying and promising to fix me, to make it all better, except that that couldn't happen, or wouldn't, I'm not sure. Then, on my right shoulder, I made seven cuts, from back to front, deeper then the others, and I don't know if that's because I put more force into it or just because of the angle, and these bled a lot more than the others, dripping constantly without stopping, especially after I scraped them. So, I made them a match on the left shoulder in exactly the same way. And still, I wasn't done yet. I just needed... A little more. A little longer... A little redder... So, perpendicular to the cuts on my shoulder, right over the head of the humerus, I put exactly five more, going over the curve and just a little ways down my arms. Because they were on skin stretched thin over bone, they spread a lot when I scraped them, but they still weren't as wide as the ones higher up on my shoulder. I wanted to be done then, but I couldn't stand the thought of having those scars and not having the other side match. So... I forced five more. I didn't like these, but they needed to be done just as much as the first ones, just for different reasons.

And finally, the despair that had been clawing at my throat, the anxiety that had been knotted in my chested more months... Finally, that tension had gradually been released. The shrieking of despair could be silently sated with the shedding of blood. And without that despair, that mindless goal of destroying myself driving me, with myself back in something that could almost be considered my right mind, I was hit with the realisation of the repercussions of this like a bucket of icy water. My shoulders and my chest were absolutely on fire, and after I washed the blood off of myself, I would need to disinfect all of the cut. And, of course, that would have to come after I cleaned up the bathroom so that it doesn't stain. And that's completely ignoring figuring out how to keep these cuts hidden long enough to heal if not scar... except there would still be scars more than likely and how the hell do I explain that?

Never again. That would be the one and only time. It was a singular breakdown that would never repeat itself and once would be enough for me.

So, I cleaned up the bathroom, disposing of the towel once I was finished with it. Then I grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and took it into the shower with me. I rinsed the mostly dried and crusted blood off and cleaned the cuts with the hydrogen peroxide, hissing at the sting, and then got back out. Before I threw on the T-shirt, which I would now have to wear to bed from now on, I took one last look in the mirror, only then noticing the glistening pink of the cuts on my shoulder from where the inside of my flesh was actually showing from the skin splitting so far. I cringed, especially as I realised those were the ones that I would be having to wear bra straps over.

Never again. It wasn't worth it. I promised myself that I would never, ever do it again. Too bad I couldn't keep that promise.

 **End**

That chapter... It flowed so easily from my head that I was never stuck, so on one hand, that chapter was supremely easy to write simply on principle that a lot of it was... simply recollection (Not the fight though, I'm not exactly confrontational, for one, secondly, ya now, I don't have four lovers), but on the other hand... It's probably worse for me than for anyone else, because as I said, to write, you literally have to be inside of the head of your character, so it's like... I was right there again... It was hard for me, needless to say.

Anyway, yes, I know that, in this story in general, but especially in this chapter, I literally just ignored lotsa grammer rules. Incomplete sentence and run on sentences everywhere, just to begin. However, I would say that that's a fairly accurate representation of how I think when in that... mindset, and I know for sure that that's how I write because I tend to send people essays via txt that are written exactly like that. It's pretty bad. Especially my boyfriend, he get's it something awful. But anyways. Hope you... enjoyed..? Or whatever the equivalent of enjoyed would be for something like this, anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

I wasn't sure what time it was when I first woke up. The sound of a soft knock on the door roused me, and I sat up, confused and disoriented. The first thing my eyes picked up were the numbers, shining green from the nightstand. 1:07 P.M. But I was alone in bed and our alarm clock was supposed to have red numbers-

Oh.

The knocking stopped after several seconds and, after a beat of silence, the door opened. I stared down at the mattress as the anxiety, the realisation of what I had said, or rather, yelled, last night flooding back to me.

"Hey... You up?" Ryan asked, even though I obviously was to some degree. I stuttered, trying to find something to say, wanting to apologize but knowing he wasn't really the one I needed to apologize to.

"Is he okay?" I asked, hesitating, wondering if I actually had any right to be asking.

"Yeah, he's fine. He and Marzia both wanted to come check on you a lot earlier but I told them to let you come down in your own time. Didn't figure you'd still be asleep. I mean... Dragon, what happened last night?" He finally asked, sitting down on the bed next to me.

"I don't know. I guess I just... I don't even know..." And I honestly didn't, as I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them, I still could not possibly fathom what had caused me to completely lose it last night, "Jesus... What the hell is wrong with me?"

He had no answer for me as we sat, regret clouding my mind as I focused on the inch of distance that he was purposely keeping between us that I deserved. Eventually, slowly, he slid an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him and it wasn't until then that I realised that I was freezing, having slept for at least nine or ten hours in just a t-shirt without getting under the blankets. It was a sign of the forgiveness I knew that I didn't deserve, so instead of focusing on his warmth, I focused on how the arm pulled at the tender cuts underneath the shirt and how it stung and burned when he squeezed.

"It'll be okay... But, you know, you probably need to, uh..." He trailed off.

"Apologize? Hella." I agreed, "Is he, uh..."

"He and Marzia are both in the kitchen cuz we didn't want to eat lunch without you too. I can run interference and get Marzia in another room, if you would like."

"That would be great."

"Kay. He should be alone by the time you get dressed, I'm sure Marzia will be able to catch a hint quickly enough." So, with one final, unintentionally painful squeeze to my shoulders, he got up and left, and I went into our shared bedroom to grab fresh clothes and clean myself up a little.

He didn't notice me when I first walked into the kitchen. Part of me wanted to turn around and walk back out before he did, and another part wanted me to throw myself into his arms and cry until he forgave me. I ignored both of those parts.

"Felix." It was more a whisper than anything, but it was enough to get him to look up, lock his phone screen and put it in his pocket.

"Dragon." He replied simply, and his voice was not harsh or specifically unfriendly, but still I flinched at the lack of warmth even though I knew that I deserved so much more, that I was lucky he wasn't ignoring me all together.

"Look, I," I swallowed, clearing my throat, "I don't really... I was so, _so_ ridiculously far in the wrong yesterday that I can't even hope to..." As if of their own volition, my arms wrapped around me, as if trying to substitute for what I would lose for my actions and I stared at the floor, trying not to cry, because I had no right to, "I'm just... I was wrong and stupid and I'm really, really sorry, okay? I'm sorry..."

"Hey, it's okay. I was over it before I fell asleep last night." He assured me, ruffling my hair playfully before carefully placing a hand under my chin to lift my face up from the ground, "I'm just a little worried about you. Are you okay?" I think we were both surprised by the bark of laugh that managed to escape me.

"Jeez, Felix, you just..." I shook my head, still chuckling ruefully, "I'm the one who screams horrible things at you and you ask me if _I'm_ alright. Yes, I'm absolutely fine." For a split second, he almost looked like he doubted me before he grinned brightly, surprising me with a sloppy wet kiss to my cheek. I couldn't even be properly affronted and wipe the saliva off of my before he captured my lips in a kiss that was much softer and not nearly so saturated. And so, I thought that the kiss meant that everything would be okay. That everything would go back to normal, that I would forget about all of those stupid thoughts of being abandoned and alone. Felix, the farthest one from me, though that didn't mean he was particularly detached by any means, and there had been conflict between us and it was all my fault. Yet, he had forgiven me and we had gotten past it and things would be okay, right? So, that means that I can stop getting all pissy for no reason and stop reading into things and finding signs that aren't there of something that won't even happen, right?

Unfortunately, all of the reasoning in the world couldn't have changed anything.

"Hey, you guys done having your moment, or do we have to keep waiting for lunch outside the door like we're not listening in while you smooch some more? Cuz I'm kinda hungry." Regretfully, we pulled apart at the sound of Ryan's voice, which I could have totally done without at that exact moment.

"We're not in the way of the fridge, are we? Then get over it." I stuck my tongue out at the brunette why shrugged amiably and came fully into the room, followed by Marzia.

"Sure, I don't mind a show for lunch. Really gives me an appetite, if you know what I mean." He winked suggestively.

"Wonderful. Too bad for you, though, I'm starving." I dragged Felix down to give him one last peck before I slipped past Ryan to get to the fridge first, "Line jump."

And I was right about everything being okay... For about as long as it took for us to make lunch and sit dow at the table, Ryan to my right, Felix to my left and Marzia across from me. Marzia still hadn't actually said a word, but that wasn't completely unusual. Sometimes, she merely liked to sit and listen, rather than speak, and she seemed to be in one of those moods.

"So, small talk. What's going on today?" Ryan asked.

"Meh, same old same old. I've got a few FNAF clones lined up, so time for some really bad games." Felix replied.

"You know" I teased, leaning into Felix conspiratorily, "Now that I think of it, you and I have both done our fill of five nights, and Marzia and Ryan haven't even touched it. Maybe it's time to give in to peer pressure, and-"

"No." The tone was flat with irritation, ending the suggestion before I could begin it. The comment seemed to come out of nowhere, despite it being the first thing I had heard Marzia say in several hours.

"Wha-" I blinked stupidly at her, stuttering like a fucking moron as she gave me a glare that suggested nothing more than detached annoyance, "Oh, okay." I snapped my gaze back down to the table in front of me, suddenly finding the idea of eating completely unappetizing. The silence that descended was awkward and harsh and the general sounds of eating did nothing to distract me from the part that latched onto that moment.

Because she's still mad at me. It won't be okay. She's still pissed at me. I had thought everything would be fine once Felix forgave me, it never occured to me that Marzia wouldn't. She doesn't want me around, and who would? Who would want some unstable, crazy, whiny, self-centered little bitch hanging around, yelling at people for no reason, being moody and pissy at the slightest provocation. she had realised that they would just be better off without me. They would leave, no doubt. I would be alone, they would be gone.

I didn't eat or say anything else for the rest of the meal. Marzia was clearly in no mood to make conversation when I was around, and Ryan and Felix floundered at the idea of having to work around not one but two moody and/or upset females. So everyone ate quickly, with Marzia being the first one to storm away from the table.

"Hey, don't worry, she'll come around." Ryan said after a moment, rubbing my shoulder, and I covered up my wince as I looked back to where she had gone.

"Yeah." I mutter, not at all sure how true his words would be.


End file.
